The mountain air grew quiet.
The last drops of rain fell into the mud.
The sun had risen, shining brighter than ever.
And Han Jiyul the man carrying both the Blood Ember and the Flower of Askaroth walked step by step down the mountain, leaving behind the whispers of gods and demons.
He was no longer the same man. His body was healed, his aura sharper, his soul darker. A fresh demon was born. But his intentions… they were still the same cold as hell, merciless as ever.
As he walked, the path opened toward the kingdom. The thought of entering so soon crossed his mind. But then Jiyul stopped. His eyes narrowed.
If I return now, they will hunt me. They will test me. My power will be revealed too quickly. I'll be nothing but a tool in their eyes. No… it's too early.
He turned away from the kingdom road and climbed higher into the mountains. The winds were colder there. Winter was already starting, and snow would soon fall.
Jiyul began building. He gathered mud, heavy stones, thick branches. Piece by piece, he shaped a small hut, covering the roof with wet leaves and pressing mud over them to shield from the rain and snow. It wasn't pretty, but it was strong. A shelter not for comfort, but survival.
He stepped inside, looked around, and smirked.
"Good enough."
From that day, his cycle began.
Morning training his body.
Day sharpening control over his powers.
Evening hunting beasts in the forest.
Night meditation and silence.
Days passed. His sword moved faster, his strikes heavier, his aura more stable. Each night, the Flower pulsed faintly inside him, feeding energy into his veins, whispering in silence. Jiyul never answered. He only listened.
A week later, he sat on a large rock near his hut, eyes closed, legs crossed. His breathing was deep, steady.
The first snow of the year began to fall. White flakes drifted down from the sky, covering the mountains in silence.
Jiyul did not move. His eyes stayed closed. But in his mind, the white snow turned red. Blood dripped from the sky, painting the ground crimson. The mountains drowned in blood.
He smiled faintly.
"The future speaks. Blood will cover this land."
He did not open his eyes. He sank deeper into meditation, focusing on the rivers of power inside him.
A sound broke the silence. Heavy steps. A wild boar charged from the trees, its tusks aimed at his chest.
Jiyul didn't even move his body. He lifted one finger and flicked the air.
The air itself split. A silver line flashed forward.
Slash.
The boar fell in three clean pieces.
Jiyul finally opened one eye, looking at the dead beast.
"Food delivered itself. Interesting."
He stood, walked down, and dragged the meat back toward his hut.
High above, in the heavens, gods watched. Their gazes burned like stars, but none dared to step closer.
Three days ago, one had tried. He had descended quietly, trying to peek into Jiyul's aura. The moment his foot touched the mountain, he was gone erased, not even a trace of his divinity left.
The heavens trembled. Sylus' shadow had passed.
Now the gods only whispered.
"Do not touch him."
"Sylus is watching."
"Even we cannot step too close."
Their voices carried fear. The boy who should have been prey was untouchable now.
Jiyul chewed roasted boar inside his hut, the fire crackling. He looked into the flames. His reflection burned in the orange glow eyes sharp, face calm, body still but heavy with power.
He muttered to himself, voice cold as iron.
"This mountain… this silence… it will be my forge. I will shape myself until the day comes. And then… I will show them what they created."
Snow fell harder outside. The wind howled. But inside the hut, only the fire and Jiyul's cold breath remained.
Far away, Sylus laughed, his voice echoing like a storm.
The mountain was silent, but Jiyul's training was not.
Each morning, before the sun touched the peaks, he swung his sword until the air itself bent around him. His body no longer moved like flesh it moved like tempered steel.
One day, while lifting a massive boulder to clear space near his hut, he realized something.
The stone was bigger than him, heavy enough that no hunter or soldier could move it. But when he pushed, his veins burned red and black for a moment and the rock flew five steps away, landing with a crash that split the ground.
He stared at it. His face did not change, no smile, no shock. Only a cold mutter:
"Another trick unlocked."
From that day, his strength grew. His fists cracked trees in half. His legs carried him across cliffs in a single leap. When he struck the ground with his sword, mud and stone split like glass.
But even with such power, his eyes stayed calm, as if none of it mattered.
Winter deepened. Snow piled higher each day. The wind grew harsh, biting through the mountains. Jiyul hunted beasts for food, his sword cutting down wolves and wild elk.
One night, a strange thing happened.
While Jiyul meditated on the rock, a snow hare approached quietly, sniffing the ground near his boots. Jiyul did not move. The hare climbed his leg, rested on his lap, and fell asleep against his stomach.
For a long time, Jiyul did not react. His eyes remained closed. Then finally, he looked down at the tiny creature.
"You must have no fear of death."
The hare twitched but did not run.
Jiyul stared at it coldly, then placed it gently on the snow beside him.
"Sleep there. If you crawl on me again, I'll roast you with the next boar."
The hare, as if understanding, hopped once and stayed put.
A dry, cold smirk appeared on Jiyul's lips gone the next second.
The fire in his hut crackled that night, and beside the flames lay roasted wolf meat. On the corner of the hut, the hare nibbled on grass roots Jiyul had tossed aside.
It was not kindness. It was not care. It was simply another piece of life around him. But for the first time, the mountain did not feel entirely empty.
Far away, Sylus watched from the shadows of the clouds. His eyes narrowed at Jiyul moving boulders like pebbles, splitting trees with his fists.
"He's becoming something else… not human, not god. A demon in flesh."
Zekiel stood behind him, arms crossed. His eyes were fixed on Jiyul roasting meat outside the hut.
"Even demons don't live like that. He's colder than them."
Sylus smirked.
"Then let him be. The colder he grows, the easier his powers will sharpen. But remember this, Zekiel… once his strength reaches the peak, either he bows to me, or his head will decorate my wall."
Jiyul sneezed suddenly, staring at the mountain wind. His voice cut the silence:
"…Who's speaking about me?"
He looked back at the clouds, eyes sharp, but found nothing. Then he returned to eating, tearing through wolf meat with calm brutality.
The hare twitched beside the fire. Jiyul glanced at it.
"Don't look at me like that. You're not next unless you want to be."
The hare twitched again. Jiyul's cold smirk returned for only a second.
Thus the days passed.
Snow deepened.
His body grew stronger.
His aura sharper.